I Am Not Ashamed To Say It Out Loud
by Pickles
Summary: Kind of goes with Every Inch A Prince, but stands on its own. Rating for mild shonen ai references. Just a peek into the deeper side of Trunks that is questionable in its actual existence.


Hi guys, I'm back! *dodges tomatoes and other rotten foods* Am I really so bad? *series  
of boos* Do I not have a single fan out there? *JohnnyJosh and Moonflower stand up and cheer,  
along with a paltry group of perhaps fifteen people* Well then, this one is for you guys, my  
pitifully small fangroup......  
This is about Trunks. It kind of goes with my story Every Inch A Prince. I really  
recommend you read it, but this stands on its own. It's an internal monologue of his - one might  
call it a bit of a soliloquy if one were so inclined - and he talks about the relationship he  
and his father have. Or don't have. Whatever. Trunks is OOC, since I was trying to make it GT  
Trunks instead of Mirai Trunks, but hey! That's what I'm a fanfiction writer for. To make them  
as I see fit..... I make shonen ai references, but nothing more heavy than that. If you guys  
want a lemon from me, you're going to have to ask. Otherwise, no.  
My characters are pretty much only Trunks, though I do make references to about half the  
characters. But the only real character is Trunks, thinking about his father. So that's about  
it, I guess.  
Eh. Flames are good if they have a legitimate reason behind them. If not, I will point  
out to you exactly what makes it so illogical that's a promise. Reviews are nice. And I ALWAYS  
love a compliment.  
Oh. Standard disclaimers apply. I do not own DragonballGT or any of its characters. Just  
using them for my own amusement, thank you very much. So no suing, please? Pointless anyway.  
It's not like I have any money. Damned disclaimers..... Anyway, on with the story!  
  
I Am Not Ashamed to Say It Out Loud  
  
By Mako-chan the 384th  
  
Sometimes, you know, I wonder if he cares. It's not his coldness around me, or the way  
he won't even touch me unless we're sparring. It's not even the way he berates me mercilessly,  
tells me I'm never good enough. It's his eyes: his cold, black, stony eyes. Those obsidian eyes  
convey nothing but contempt for me.  
I have no idea why he feels the need to hate me so, why he should so loathe his only  
son. I am not as fierce as he is, no; and I hope I never will be. He has no mercy in his heart  
for anyone, although he was shown mercy time and time again. I have mercy in my own heart, and I  
have never needed to have it given to me.  
Does he think I am not enough a man to continue the line? If so, he need not fear there.  
While I do not necessarily want to spend the rest of my life with a woman, I do want children,  
and I will do what is necessary to acquire them.  
Does he fear I know his secret? For I do know that. I have seen the way his eyes dance  
on Goku, the way he hides behind that shield of contempt a shy heart. But I would never tell. I  
love - and fear - my father far too much for that. And he would not appreciate it, any more than  
I think he would appreciate the knowledge that I have fallen for a certain black-haired  
jinzoningen.  
Does he fear to let me claim his title when he is gone? If so, he need not worry. The  
only way I shall become the Prince of the Saiya-jins is if he should happen to leave the name to  
me in his will. While I am noble (and prideful in thinking so), he is regal. Everything about  
him becomes royal because it is a part of him. I suppose by default that does make me somewhat  
royal, but I shall NOT take that title. It is his, and his alone, and will forever be so in my  
mind.  
Does he worry that if he does not hate me, he will love me? This might be it. For he  
fears to be anything but regal, anthing but princely, and loving does not not fit into that  
mindset. Not even a father-son love can find its way into his approval.  
Or does he really love me? This is the least possible, and yet hoping against hope my  
heart clings to the idea.I cannot believe it - my mind refuses to process that fact that he  
could - but I beg silently for it anyway, praying to whatever gods there may be that he loves  
me. I do not believe he understands. I need him to love me. I need his approval desperately. My  
life would be ecstatically happy if he would show even the slightest sign of affection for me.  
But it seems all his love has gone to my sister, the miracle girl. I envy her nothing  
else, only my father's love. She is so lucky to have that. She doesn't even realize it. She  
doesn't seem to care that she is the only person in the entire world whom our father shows open  
affection for. She doesn't know what a precious thing that is.  
I have tried not to care. I honestly have tried. But it doesn't work. I can't help loving  
my father. Even if he is arrogant. And rude. And conceited. Even if I can point out all his  
faults and then his good points, and and the good points come up to less than half of the good  
points. Even if I have no reason to love him. Even if I have every reason to hate him. I still  
love my father.  
Oh, I'm no walk in the park either, I'll tell you that. I'm as rude a teenager as you  
could ever hope to meet. I flip people off on a regular basis. I moon them too, if the urge  
strikes. Although most of them should appreciate that. And do, if I'm not the one asking. I say  
what I feel like, when I feel like it. I'm not what one would call a pleasant person.  
But I still need his love, for all that. In fact, I hide behind that, that shield of  
uncaring silliness, so I don't have to show him that I do need it. He would construe such a need  
as weak. Worse still, womanly. And so I cannot tell him how much I need him to love me. I cannot  
tell him how much I agonize over him. I cannot tell him how much it would mean to me just for him  
to say that as a son I am all right. That somewhere, in a tiny corner of him, somewhere he is  
just a little proud of me.  
I cannot say why I need this so, aside from it is a natural thing to be, is the way  
things are supposed to be. Not that I would know that, of course. Aside from the fact that I see  
the way my friends are with their fathers - or in Gohan's case, their children. I see Goku with  
Gohan and Goten. I see Gohan with Pan. I see Videl with her father. I see my own sister and my  
own father. I wonder if he does not know how to be a father to a son sometimes. He understands  
the concept with my younger sibling, who happens to be a girl.  
I wonder if his father did the same thing to him. He may not know he's doing something  
wrong. If his father didn't show him love, perhaps he merely thinks he's doing what he's supposed  
to do. However, I cannot take that and process it. I know I am not the only one of the two of us  
who sees how other families are, or even other parts of our family - the way my mother is with  
her father, the way my father is with my sister. He knows what he is doing.  
But still I love my father, even if he doesn't - even if he never will - love me. Perhaps  
he thinks I don't love him. I say it every day, if not verbally. I say it in the way I worry  
about him. I say it in the way I ask his approval of everything I do, even though I never get  
more than a grunt and a rough "I don't care" in response. I say it in the was I always give him  
my best effort when we spar, although he will always win. Every day, a million ways, I say it.  
But perhaps it is time I say it out loud. I love you, Father. I love you, Vegeta. I love  
you, Prince of the Saiyans. And I am not ashamed to say it out loud. 


End file.
